Nostalgia
by TurtleGirl
Summary: In which Casimiro has a craving and Finas is snarky.  Edited for maximum British smugness.


**Nostalgia**

**A/N:** A little drabble I came up with just because Cas and Finas are so much fun to write. Enjoy! Casimiro and Finas are property of Tessa Stone. (Lucky girl.)

Living with Casimiro had its ups and downs. On the upside, Finas appreciated having a little excitement in his long afterlife. On the downside, it was usually Finas who got the front row view when Cas had to pay the price for his impulsiveness.

This particular evening, Finas knew something was up as soon as Casimiro all but kicked in the door to their apartment, grinning broadly and carrying a small paper bag.

Normally, the Englishman would have stayed put, enjoying his book and thinking nothing of the interruption. But when Cas bounded through the living room without so much as a 'hello', curiosity got the better of him, and Finas joined his roommate in the kitchen.

"Dare I ask what you're up to?" Cas responded with an innocent shrug.

"Me? I'm just getting ready to enjoy one of the lost pleasures of my youth." The Italian vampire looked very pleased with himself as he reached into the bag and retrieved several small, cylinder shaped pastries, setting them out on the kitchen table with care.

"Bear claws?"

"Cannolis!" Cas corrected cheerfully. "I doubt they're as good as Mama's but at this point, I'm not too picky." There were so many things wrong with that statement that Finas was at a loss for where to start.

"Where in the world did you get cannolis?"

"This Italian bakery just opened up down the street. I couldn't resist."

Finas certainly could. The pastries smelled of sugar, cream, and lots of other things that vampires can't digest. Surely Cas wasn't thinking of _eating_ those.

"If you really think it's worth being violently ill…"

"Hey, I don't care if I'm tasting it for a week. I'm gonna enjoy this." Taking a seat, Casimiro unwrapped one of the cannolis, looked it over for a moment, and took a good sized bite, his eyes lighting up as he chewed. "Holy crap, these are amazing!" He nudged the bag towards the center of the table. "Want some, Fin?"

Finas sighed. There was no talking Casimiro out of anything.

"No, thank you," he said. "I have my own vices for when I feel like abusing my stomach."

"Oh riiight," Cas chuckled, polishing off one cannoli and reaching for a second. "Like that stash of Earl Grey you keep in your closet." Finas' eyes widened slightly and Casimiro put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Hey, I don't know why you would bother hiding it. I always hated tea."

"I suppose it _is_ suited for more refined tastes...," Finas said dryly, not even curious about _why_ his roommate would be going through his closet to begin with.

By now, Casimiro was working on cannoli number three. Finas eyed him warily, fully expecting the tablecloth to be ruined at any moment.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" The younger man swallowed, considering.

"I feel great. Hey! Maybe I'm building up a…a uh…" Cas hiccupped, his smile evaporating as his stomach suddenly made an unsettling noise.

"…tolerance…"

Finas raised an eyebrow. His companion seemed to be inventing an entirely new shade of green.

"Cas?"

"Err…" The Italian cleared his throat, slowly got to his feet and disappeared down the hallway, one hand clapped firmly over his mouth. Finas followed.

He stood outside the bathroom door, his arms folded across his broad chest, waiting patiently as Cas paid dearly for his nostalgia. After a few minutes, the older vampire dared to stick his head through the doorway.

"Would you like me to put the rest of your dessert in the fridge?" he asked.

"Nah. I think I'm done," was the muttered reply. Casimiro slowly sat up, looking woozy but defiant as he rested his back against the bathroom wall. He was just waiting for the smug British bastard to say, 'I told you so,' but Finas knew better.

"So…," the Englishman asked. "Was it worth it?"

"Absolutely!" Cas replied, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. He managed a wry grin in spite of his misery. "In fact, you're more than welcome to finish those off." Finas shook his head, very politely declining.

"That's alright, Cas. You seem to enjoy vomiting a lot more than I do." Casimiro rolled his eyes.

"I'll remind you of that the next time you're craving some of your English crap."

Finas pondered a moment, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as Cas groaned and leaned back over the toilet.

"You know, a nice cup of tea _does_ do wonders for nausea. Perhaps I should check to see if there's any more in my closet."

"Shut. Up."

Finas checked his watch, dutifully rubbing Casimiro's back with the other hand as the younger man heaved. Half an hour had passed already. Surely the worst was over by now.

Cas looked completely pitiful as he finally pulled his head away from the toilet, his face paler than usual and his forearms crossed protectively over his belly. Finas frowned at him, keeping a hand on his back for support.

"Alright?" Cas let out a shaky breath, slumping further down on the tile as though he might topple over at any moment.

"I don't feel so good…" he answered, somewhat sheepishly. Enough was enough.

"Come on, Cas," said Finas, pulling the smaller man to his feet with embarrassing ease. "You'll feel better lying down for a while."

Casimiro's only response was a miserable sigh as he was half-carried back to his room.

Considering the mortally wounded state of his friend's pride, Finas graciously decided not to act _too_ smug about the whole thing.

"I find it endearing how helpless you are when you're not feeling well." Cas shot him a not-very-threatening glare.

"My mama never complained."

"Perhaps your mother liked you more than I do," Finas pointed out.

"Hell yeah, she did! I was always her sweet little bambino."

Finas was trying not to grin as he deposited the queasy Italian into bed and tucked the covers around him. For a while there, Cas had almost had him worried.

"Would you like me to heat up one of the pouches?" he asked him. "It might settle your stomach." Cas considered, a childishly hopeful look in his eyes.

"AB negative?"

"Of course." Cas smiled, settling in under the covers contentedly.

"You spoil me."

"I know." Finas agreed, his cool fingers smoothing Casimiro's forehead affectionately as the younger vampire closed his eyes.

"Try to rest. I won't be long."

As he made his way to the kitchen, Finas couldn't help but chuckle to himself. For all his bravado, Cas really _was_ the neediest person he knew.

Still, it wasn't like Casimiro wouldn't be just as attentive if their situations were reversed. Finas hadn't been lying when he mentioned having his own culinary vices.

The Englishman's thoughts drifted back to the tea he kept in his closet for "emergencies" and as his hand met the refrigerator door, his stomach growled.

Finas groaned, letting out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Damn it, Cas," he thought. "Now I'm in the mood for crumpets."

_**FIN**_ (I mean it this time!)


End file.
